


Keeping Us Tied and True

by Polomonkey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Play, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Honeymoon, Humor, Ireland, M/M, Making Up, Multi, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Queer Culture, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 14:31:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11465565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: The honeymoon fight was the second biggest one they’d ever had.The biggest was the sherry trifle debacle, which started with a pudding Merlin’s aunt had made and ended with Gwaine getting arrested for public indecency, Merlin waking up in a train station in Aberdeen with no memory of getting there, and Arthur eating five pot brownies and throwing up on Uther’s shoes.Merlin and Arthur don't want to go on honeymoon. So Gwaine kidnaps them, of course.





	Keeping Us Tied and True

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Diana_Prallon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diana_Prallon/gifts).



> Ok so this fic is literally over 2 years late and I have no excuse other than being the worst, but I hope you're still interested to read this Diana! You prompted _'Arthur/Merlin/Gwaine; M; Modern AU in which they're planning/going on a honeymoon because you can still be traditional even if you're poly'_ which somehow turned into a fight about the nature of queerness, a minor kidnapping, an angsty subplot and some light d/s porn... Er but it does have lots of Gwaine! I really hope you like it, thank you for your patience  <3
> 
> NB: Ride is Irish slang for someone being hot (i.e. you want to ride them) and rawny is regional slang for a slim delicate man. This fic fills my hc bingo square 'homesickness'

The honeymoon fight was the second biggest one they’d ever had.

The biggest was the sherry trifle debacle, which started with a pudding Merlin’s aunt had made and ended with Gwaine getting arrested for public indecency, Merlin waking up in a train station in Aberdeen with no memory of getting there, and Arthur eating five pot brownies and throwing up on Uther’s shoes.

The ensuing argument to lay the blame lasted three weeks and encompassed Merlin moving out to Will’s, Arthur moving out to Morgana’s, and Gwaine sulking alone in the flat because he had nowhere to move out to.

Eventually they’d agreed that most of the blame lay with Merlin’s aunt and the rest with Gwaine, and let’s never speak of this again, okay?

So all in all, Gwaine was quite relieved that he found himself completely blameless in the honeymoon fight.

He was a little surprised that the honeymoon turned out to be the catalyst, however. He’d expected it for the wedding because that was a classic case of an unstoppable force (Arthur) meets an immovable object (Merlin).

Put simply: Arthur had wanted to get married and Merlin had not. At all.

“We are QUEER,” he’d growled at Arthur over the breakfast table, doing that weird gesticulating thing Merlin always did when riled up. “Why would we want to partake in some heterofascist, patriarchal sham of a tradition that won’t even legally acknowledge us?”

“It’s only a heterofacist patriarchal sham if we make it one,” Arthur had said stoutly. Unlike Merlin, he got very stiff and still when he argued. “There’s nothing wrong with adapting traditions and there is certainly nothing wrong with making a public declaration of love and commitment.”

“Yeah, like I can just see some church welcoming the three of us onto the altar to honour their traditions-”

“I don’t want to hear your rant against the church again thank you-”

“Pass the butter?” Gwaine said hopefully but it had all kicked off by then. Twenty minutes later, Arthur was washing up in the most clankingly angry fashion possible while Merlin was passive aggressively blasting Joni Mitchell’s My Old Man at top volume in the living room. When the lyric ‘we don’t need no piece of paper from the city hall / keeping us tied and true’ blared out for the eighth time, Gwaine caved and called Gwen.

As he’d hoped, she solved that one beautifully, by finding a queer officiant who did humanist hand-fasting ceremonies in the New Forest. They’d hired out a minibus and all their friends plus Gaius and Hunith had piled in and driven down for the weekend. Uther did not deign to attend but Morgana did her best to shower Arthur with enough affection to make up for it. And Merlin was entirely taken with the hippy officiant Elena and her day job as an ecological crusader. Gwaine himself was just happy to be there, and even happier that Elyan had managed to cram a case of prosecco into his suitcase.

All in all, the crisis had been so successfully averted that Gwaine was entirely blindsided by the honeymoon saga. It all began innocently enough, with Merlin and Arthur comparing work diaries to see when they could both take a week off. Gwaine was pretty flexible, being freelance and all, but Merlin’s Greenpeace job and Arthur’s graphic design gig at Camelot Records were a bit more intense. But they’d managed to narrow down a week and then the topic turned to where they would go. Merlin suggested Tibet and Arthur suggested Tuscany and Gwaine suggested anywhere with a bar. And then he wandered off to buy takeaway and returned to find Arthur and Merlin’s playful bickering had turned into a scale five, knock out drag down row.

“I don’t want to go to some stuck up hotel where they’ll look down their noses at us for requesting a three person room!” Merlin was shouting.

“Since when have you cared what anyone thought of us-”

“Since you started shoving all these Mr and Mrs packages in my face-”

“Not Mr and Mrs, they’re just _nice_ , like I’m sure you’d prefer we froze to death in a tent in Wales so you could keep all your queer cred intact-”

“-biggest snob I ever met, of course camping’s too good for his highness-”

“-God forbid we have anything nice like other people-”

“-why do you want us to be like other people so badly-”

“Guys!” Gwaine said, dropping the chow mein carton on the table with a thud. “Pretty sure honeymoon planning is supposed to be fun? Not, you know, an excuse to duel at dawn.”

Two pairs of indignant eyes fixed on his.

“He wants to go on some luxury holiday for Made in Chelsea wannabes who think poly’s a name for a parrot!”

“Well he wants us to sit in hair shirts in the arse end of nowhere just so no one can accuse us of liking what The Straights like!”

“I hear Madrid’s nice this time of year,” Gwaine said a little desperately but Arthur and Merlin were already shouting at each other again.

Gwaine decided the best thing to do was wait it out so he took dinner into the lounge and poured himself a generous whiskey. But two hours, five episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and entirely too much Chinese food later, they were still at it. And the argument seemed to have moved on from honeymoons to dissecting every single thing wrong with their relationship.

“Can’t we sleep on this?” Gwaine pleaded, because it was late and he was tired and he’d eaten three people’s dinners. All he wanted was to curl up in bed and have Arthur give him a belly rub while he played with Merlin’s hair. But he fell asleep before either of them even came up to bed that night and in the morning there was nothing but a stony silence.

And that silence persisted for nearly two weeks, with Gwaine trying every trick in the book to get his idiotic husbands to bury the hatchet. It wasn’t too long before he realised that conventional means were no longer the way to go. It was time to get devious. So on Good Friday, taking advantage of the extended Easter weekend, he put his plan into action.

Morgana was more than happy to get in on the subterfuge. She practically cackled down the phone when she heard the proposal.

“It’s so conniving, I love it!”

“I learned from the best.”

“And you have done well, young Padawan. I’ll text them the invite now.”

“Can you get Gwen in on this, so she doesn’t blow our cover?”

“Tell him I don’t approve!” came a voice from the background.

“Gwen is unschooled in the ways of the dark side and may require further persuasion,” Morgana said sagely.

“Oh for goodness sakes, give me that.”

Gwaine heard a brief tussle and then Gwen’s voice came down the line.

“I hear shenanigans are afoot.”

“That they are, young Gwen. Are you in?”

“I’m two years older than you, Gwaine. And no.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Look, there’s this wacky thing people in relationships do where they actually communicate their feelings like adults.”

“You and Morgana do it?”

“No but I heard it exists. And is looked upon more favourably by the police than attempted kidnap.”

“Arthur and Merlin won’t call the police,” Gwaine said unconcernedly. “I’ll have confiscated their phones.”

“Well, I see you’ve really thought this through.”

“Thanks pal!”

“That was sarcasm.”

“But I took it as a compliment and therefore I win.”

“Gwaine…”

“Look, I’ve never seen them this bad before. It’s becoming A Thing. Like the kind of Thing that maybe destroys a relationship if it gets out of control.”

There was a short silence.

“Are you guilt tripping me into helping?”

“Kinda,” Gwaine admitted. “Did it work?”

“Yes, curse my soft heart. You have my blessing for the ensuing shenanigans. Please don’t mention my name if you end up in court.”

“Deal,” Gwaine said and hung up. Ten minutes later his phone buzzed.

_Hey guys! It’s been a while, come over for lunch today? Gwen xxx_

He bounded across the hall to knock on the studio door, which he’d recently rechristened Merlin’s Sulk Cave.

“Did you get Gwen’s text?”

“I don’t really feel like it,” Merlin said. Sulkily.

Just then Arthur came out of the kitchen.

“Me neither,” he mumbled and Gwaine felt the familiar tragedy of shenanigans falling apart before his eyes.

Then his phone buzzed again.

_I really appreciate you guys coming over! Work’s been really stressful and I just wanna spend some time with my friends <3 xxx_

Gwen was a Goddamn evil genius. Gwaine didn’t know why he’d never teamed up with her before.

Merlin and Arthur were both looking at their phones, faces softening.

“I guess I could-” Merlin said, at the same time as Arthur said: “I suppose I can-”. They both broke off and glared at each other.

“Great!” Gwaine said, clapping his hands. “Be ready in an hour.”

 _Welcome to the dark side, young Padawan_ , he texted Gwen.

_Padawans were not on the dark side, Gwaine._

_What about Anakin?_

Argument won, Gwaine went off to pack.

 

***

 

One hour later, he’d managed to sneak an extra-large suitcase with all their stuff into the boot of the car. He hopped into the driver’s seat before Arthur could get any ideas and honked his horn.

His errant husbands trooped out of the house and slipped into the backseat, each with a bottle of wine in hand. Excellent news, as far as Gwaine was concerned, they could crack it open when they arrived.

Not at Gwen’s obviously, as they’d be going nowhere near there.

“Hey you missed the turn off,” Merlin said as Gwaine swung a left.

“Did I?”

“Yeah, but if you go right now you can – oh you missed that too.”

“How unfortunate,” Gwaine said.

“You can loop back around,” Arthur said, leaning forward. “As long as you don’t get onto… the motorway…”

For that was exactly what Gwaine had done.

“What the hell is going on?”

Gwaine smiled beatifically.

“We’re going to Liverpool.”

“Excuse me?”

“And from there we’re getting the ferry to Dublin and from there we’re driving to Galway. And you know what happens when we get to Galway?”

“What?”

“We have a bloody honeymoon.”

A cacophony of protests instantly filled the air.

“Stop the car right this minute-”

“Take us back home or I’ll pull this door open-”

“Child locks are on, babe,” Gwaine sang out. “Settle down now. Only a three hour drive.”

The protests increased in volume, although to be accurate they were more threats at this point.

“Sorry boys, can’t hear a thing!” Gwaine said cheerfully. Then turned the radio on.

 

He didn’t turn it off again until they were ten minutes from the dock. In that time Arthur had made several phone pleas for help to Gwen and Morgana, and subsided into an angry nap after being denied. Meanwhile Merlin had attempted to maintain a furious silence but had broken by the time they reached Birmingham and had subjected Gwaine to an irate stream of consciousness since then. Merlin being Merlin, however, he’d somehow gotten off track and had been talking about the ivory trade since Crewe.

Still, it was a frigid silence that greeted him when he finally parked the car.

“You realise you can’t make us get on that ferry with you,” Arthur said coolly.

Merlin nodded in agreement, which Gwaine took to be a positive sign. They were already uniting! Sadly it was against him, but still.

“S’true, I can’t make you.”

Gwaine turned in his seat to face them both.

“I’m only gonna say this. We stood in that drizzly forest in front of all our friends and we made a public vow of commitment. Because we love each other. Or at least I did. And now I want to go on a honeymoon. Not because it’s tradition, _Arthur_. Not because I’m reclaiming and subverting patriarchal rites, _Merlin_. But because I love my husbands and I want to spend time with them.”

He leaned over and unlocked the car doors with a click.

“So I’m getting on that ferry now. You can both do what you want.”

He picked his bag up from the seat and got out of the car, walking determinedly towards the dock.

It was perhaps only ten seconds before he felt a hand on his arm.

“Of course we’re coming, you numpty,” Merlin said, eyes soft.

“As though I’d let you loose in Ireland by yourself,” Arthur said, taking Gwaine’s hand.

“Does this mean you’re speaking to each other? Gwaine said hopefully.

“Don’t push it,” they said in unison and Gwaine sighed. One thing at a time.

“Now you do realise you left the car unlocked after your dramatic little speech,” Arthur said.

“Oops,” Gwaine said, veering back. “I’ll be honest, I hadn’t planned beyond that.”

“Shocking,” Merlin said drily and he wasn’t looking at Arthur yet, but it was a start.

 

***

 

It was Merlin’s turn to fall asleep on the drive from Dublin to Galway after a most unfortunate bout of sea sickness, leaving Arthur in the passenger seat beside Gwaine (both of his husbands had cruelly said he could be the honeymoon driver as punishment for the kidnap).

“It’s beautiful out here,” Arthur said, eyes fixed on the greenery rushing by.

“That it is,” Gwaine said. This was the drive he used to do every time he came back to visit his mam from university. He knew this journey like the back of his hand.

Arthur smiled but he looked tired. Gwaine took one hand off the steering wheel to give his knee a squeeze.

“Hey. You’re usually the level-headed one of us three. Well, slightly more level-headed. What’s going on?”

Arthur shifted a little in his seat.

“It’s gonna sound stupid,” he said haltingly.

“Babe, you’re talking to the man who tried to skateboard off a barn roof aged twenty two.”

Arthur laughed then, a little, and Gwaine relaxed.

“I-I’m old fashioned. Like, I know that. I like tradition and etiquette and making things formal. But Merlin thinks all that stuff’s-”

He broke off.

Gwaine waited, knowing that Arthur needed to take his time, that sharing feelings required effort on his part.

“When he makes fun of that stuff, when he says it doesn’t matter… it feels like… It feels like he’s saying I don’t matter. That the things that are important to me don’t matter.”

Gwaine nearly swerved the car off the road trying to grab Arthur’s hand.

“Are you daft or something? Merlin thinks you hung the moon and stars half the time. When he describes you to other people, you’d think he was talking about Superman, he’s that proud.”

“That’s worse, then,” Arthur said in a small voice. “That means I’ve disappointed him.”

“Oh for- Arthur, you know as well as I do that Merlin’s an antsy old Trot with a head full of queer theory and the bleedingest of bleeding hearts. It’s not personal when he goes on like that.”

“It feels personal,” Arthur said, which Gwaine had to concede.

“Well, we’re not leaving Ireland till we’ve sorted all this out,” he said determinedly.

“We’ll be here a while,” Arthur said, gloomy, but Gwaine just clucked at him. He wouldn’t be giving up that easily.

 

The sun was just beginning to set as Gwaine pulled over into a pebble drive. Merlin stirred in the back.

“Where are we?”

“Ballygarrin, Galway. A.k.a. the village I grew up in.”

Both Arthur and Merlin turned to look at him with open mouths.

“Chop, chop,” Gwaine said, enjoying their shock. “Kathleen’ll just be putting supper out.”

“As in the famous Aunty Kathleen?”

Her exactly. A plump dark haired woman with large round glasses and a crooked mouthed smile that broke across her face as she opened the door to him. He hadn’t seen her since she last visited England two years ago but he talked to her on the phone at least once a month. But she hadn’t crossed paths with Merlin or Arthur yet, and Gwaine had decided it was high time they met.

As she enfolded him in her arms for one of her traditional bear hugs, he caught the familiar scent of the cottage behind her; rosemary and soda bread, inexplicably homey. It was good to be back. He’d been away too long.

His cousin Freya was next, shy but excited, shrieking slightly as he picked her off her feet and twirled her round. They kept in touch by text but it was still a shock seeing how tall she was now, how grown up she looked. He still thought of her as that tiny toddler trailing round after him through the fields and mud.

He put her down after smacking a big kiss to her forehead, and turned to see Arthur and Merlin hovering on the threshold.

“These are they, I take it?” Kathleen said critically and Arthur swallowed hard while Merlin twisted his hands together.

“Well, Gwaine… what a handsome pair!”

Kathleen’s face relaxed into a big toothy grin.

“Lovely to meet you both. Aren’t they handsome, Freya?”

“Couple of rides,” Freya commented and Gwaine burst out laughing.

“Freya Mahon!” Kathleen scolded. “Watch your mouth and put the kettle on. Don’t be encouraging her Gwaine, she’s getting to be a right one.”

As she spoke she was bustling around Arthur and Merlin, planting a kiss on both their cheeks and guiding them to sit at the table.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it over for the wedding, but Freya showed me some pictures on the Faceybook. You looked a treat, all three of you.”

“It was a good day,” Gwaine said with a meaningful look at his husbands, but they both seemed entirely distracted by the various photos of Gwaine adorning the walls. He really should have asked Freya to hide them.

“Wasn’t he sweet?” Kath said, following Merlin’s gaze to a picture of Gwaine covered in paint in a wheelbarrow.

“He certainly was naked a lot,” Arthur said.

“Aye, we could barely get the lad to keep his clothes on till he was six or seven. Remember that time you flashed the priest, love?”

“I was three!” Gwaine objected. “Flashing makes it sound pre-meditated!”

Merlin and Arthur were laughing heartily, the eejits.

“Father Doogan always had a weak heart, we’re lucky you didn’t finish him off,” Kath said with a wink. “Help yourself to bread, boys!”

She gestured to the loaf in the middle of the table.

“We’re having bacon and cabbage and mash, your old favourite Gwaine.”

“Merlin’s a vegetarian, Kath,” Gwaine said.

Kathleen looked downcast for a second and then she brightened.

“Cabbage and mash for him and I’ll put some soup on.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said hastily. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Nonsense,” she said. “Freya, where’s that tea?”

“I’ll help,” Gwaine said, going into the kitchen. Freya was on her phone, idly stirring the teapot.

“Hear you’re making trouble for your mam, little one,” he said, mock-stern.

“No more than you ever made,” she said, grinning. “‘Sides, I’m fifteen now.”

Gwaine pretended to faint.

“You’re never a day over twelve!”

“Gwa-aine!” she whined.

“No, actually, I see you’re all grown up,” Gwaine said, thumbing at the living room. “Rides, indeed.”

Freya’s smile turned wicked.

“Well, so they are. Merlin’s a bit rawny but-”

“Rawny, yourself,” Gwaine said, poking her in the side. “Pass me that tea pot.”

 

***

 

Dinner was a success. Gwaine watched with satisfaction as Arthur went from warily eyeing the cabbage to cleaning his plate and asking for seconds. Merlin filled up on mash and tomato soup and avidly listened while Freya explained the wildlife project her class were doing at the local lake. Meanwhile Kathleen teased conversation out of Arthur in between refilling Gwaine’s plate till he could hardly move.

“You’re too skinny, all three of you,” she said as she brought out an enormous apple pie for dessert. “Is there a food shortage in the big cities? Gwaine used to come home from Dublin looking like a hat stand.”

“Mam,” Freya complained, embarrassed in the way only a fifteen year old could be.

Half an apple pie later and even Gwaine couldn’t fit another mouthful in.

“We’ll have the rest tomorrow night,” Kathleen said firmly. “Unless you boys find somewhere to eat out. You can text Freya if so, you can be sure she doesn’t miss a thing on that phone.”

“We will,” Gwaine said, getting to his feet. Arthur and Merlin followed suit, looking slightly puzzled.

“We’re sleeping in the holiday cottage,” Gwaine informed them. “Kathleen rents it out.”

“Unless Gwaine wants it and then it’s his,” Kathleen beamed. “Now, there’s fresh towels and sheets and some food in the fridge. If you need anything else, just pop over. Sleep well!”

She handed over the keys and then saw them off with a kiss each.

“Well,” Merlin said as they crunched back down the gravel path. “She’s lovely.”

“Too lovely to be related to you,” Arthur agreed and there was a snort from Merlin before he remembered himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gwaine said. “She seemed to like you both, for some odd reason.”

“The holiday cottage, did you rent it?” Arthur said suddenly, propriety never far from his mind. “I’d hate for her to be out of pocket.”

“Nope,” Gwaine said as they approached the doorway.

“Gwaine!” Merlin said. “We have to pay something.”

“You can try,” Gwaine said, fitting the key in the lock. “But she won’t let you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s my house,” Gwaine said simply, snapping on the light. “This is where I grew up.”

That shut them both up. Gwaine took a few seconds to look around. It wasn’t exactly the same as it had been, of course; Kathleen had done it up for guests and some of the furniture and carpet was new. But it was the same old black hearth in the corner. Same apple orchard painting hung on the wall. Same faint notches in the wood of the pantry where Gwaine’s mam had measured his height growing up. He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned back to them.

“Kathleen runs it and I make sure she keeps all the profit of course, but she insists I can stay here for free whenever I want.”

He ran his hand along the sideboard.

“But I haven’t until now.”

He felt strong arms wrap around his chest and a slim hand taking his own.

“It’s nice,” Arthur said, resting his chin on Gwaine’s shoulder.

“Very nice,” Merlin said, squeezing Gwaine’s hand.

Gwaine just stood there like that for a moment, content to be held. It had been a long day.

“We need to get you to bed,” Arthur murmured.

“Ooh-”

“Not like that! To sleep. You’ve been driving all day.”

“Oh, alright. Bedroom’s that way.”

The cottage was mainly for couples to rent out so Gwaine’s old bedroom had been redone into a laundry/wash room. They’d be sleeping in his mam’s old room, her rickety old bed replaced with a Kingsize for the tourists.

It was still smaller than their bed at home, which they’d had made specially. Gwaine saw both Arthur and Merlin eyeing it nervously and decided to keep entirely schtum about the blow up bed in the wash room cupboard.

“Nice and cosy,” he said cheerfully, but despite his best efforts to shove Merlin into the middle of the bed, he ended up there himself. He’d been sleeping between the two of them since this ridiculous argument began, and although it was usually a treat to get double the snuggling, he’d begun to feel like a human barrier.

Unconscious, his husbands were less stubborn. He woke up the next morning to find Arthur’s hand reaching across his stomach to Merlin’s hip. Meanwhile Merlin’s foot had entangled itself with one of Arthur’s at the bottom of the bed.

Satisfied, Gwaine drifted off again, only to wake an hour later and find Merlin gone from beside him. So much for leaving them two to wake up in each other’s arms.

He padded out to the kitchen to find Merlin cracking eggs into a pan.

“Morning,” he said sleepily, giving Merlin a quick kiss. “Making breakfast?”

“Yep.”

“For all of us?”

Merlin sighed.

“Yes. I’m mad at Arthur but I don’t want him to starve.”

“I knew you cared.”

“Gwaine…”

“Oh no, we’re having this conversation,” Gwaine said firmly. “What is going on?”

Whereas Arthur needed to be coaxed into talking, Merlin needed to be pinned down before he slipped away. For someone who talked all the time, he had a clever way of making words mean absolutely nothing. Gwaine had to be strict to cut through the babble.

“Why are you giving Arthur such a hard time? It’s hardly a shock to anyone that he likes nice holidays in five star hotels. I think you knew you weren’t marrying Che Guevara.”

“I don’t want him to be Che Guevara! I just want him to be-”

Merlin turned back to the pan and mumbled something to the eggs.

“Didn’t catch that,” Gwaine said loudly.

“I want him to not be ashamed of us,” Merlin said, and when he turned around his eyes were red rimmed.

“Is that what you think?” Gwaine said, shocked.

“I know some of it’s just his father talking,” Merlin said miserably. “But the marriage stuff and the nice honeymoon and all the trimmings… it’s like he wants us to get as close to ‘normal’ as possible so we don’t embarrass him.”

He was gripping the spatula so hard his knuckles were white.

“And then we do all that and his dad doesn’t approve anyway and it breaks my heart because Arthur’s hurting and I can’t fix-”

He broke off.

“I want us to be enough for him. Just us.”

Gwaine exhaled heavily.

“You muppet, Merlin. Why haven’t you just said all this to him?”

Gwen was beginning to seem wiser by the second. A bit of honest communication would have worked wonders here.

Merlin scrubbed at his eyes.

“He doesn’t want to hear it, Gwaine,” he said and at that moment the bedroom door opened and Arthur came out.

Merlin clammed up like a Cold War spy and Arthur’s vocabulary was mainly limited to grunts in the morning anyway so Gwaine turned the radio on and ate his eggy bread deep in thought. How could he fix this?

 

***

 

The plan for the day was a nice walk and a visit to an old castle. They stopped for lunch in a quaint little pub with bottle tops stuck all over the walls and Gwaine was mightily relieved to have other people to talk to. Merlin and Arthur were speaking now, technically. But it was with the scrupulous politeness of near strangers; all “after you” and “mind the step” and “pass the salt, please.” It was driving Gwaine mad, never mind the fact that making all the conversation was giving him a headache.

He retreated to the bar for a bit to flirt with the freckled barmaid in the hope of prodding his moronic husbands into talking. But they just sat in silence like two stunned carp until Gwaine came back to rescue them.

Gwaine volunteered to go to the shop by himself after they got home to get some booze for the evening. He hope that leaving the two idiots together might get them talking, but to be honest that hope was waning after The Most Awkward Day Out in History.

Theresa was serving in the shop, looking almost exactly the same as Gwaine remembered her.

“It’s never little Gwaine Greene!” she said, hurrying round the counter to give him a bone crushing hug. “Kath said you were back in the village.”

“Just for the weekend,” Gwaine said, squeezing her back. “How are you?”

“Never mind me, what’s this I hear about you bringing round two fancy men? Honestly, Gwaine, this village has always been short on men and you’re hogging two.”

“I’ll tell Pat you said that,” Gwaine said and she laughed.

“Aye, tell the big lump, maybe he’ll get off his arse and take me out for once.”

She gave him a discount on a bottle of Bushmills and extracted a promise from him to visit more often. Gwaine meant it when he said yes. He’d missed this place, even if every familiar face caused a funny swoop in his stomach.

He wondered if Arthur or Merlin would understand if he told them. Merlin went back to his hometown all the time; he’d never have stayed away as long as Gwaine had. And Hunith was always delighted to have him, and Arthur and Gwaine too if they tagged along.

Arthur always got that wistful look in his eyes when Merlin talked to Hunith. Gwaine knew he was jealous in the sweetest way possible; that he never knew his own mother and Hunith was the kind of mam anyone would dream of. But it stopped Arthur from seeing the whole picture. The fact that Hunith had struggled so hard to make ends meet that she was barely around for most of Merlin’s childhood. Between her three jobs, Merlin had once told Gwaine there was a two year period where he only saw her for about ten minutes a day.

It was the same kind of blindness Merlin viewed Uther with. His mam was so accepting, so fiercely protective of Merlin, that he couldn’t understand the way Uther behaved. And that meant he couldn’t understand why Arthur still loved his father and craved his approval. He wanted Arthur to tell Uther where to go and Gwaine knew that Arthur never would. But Merlin didn’t get it that so he got more and more frustrated watching Uther let his son down time and time again.

Gwaine could see it all. The way Arthur missed his mother, the way he clung to his father. The way Merlin refused to miss his own dad, the way he wanted to lash out first at anyone who’d look down on his poly marriage the way they’d looked down on his single mum. You’d have to know the two of them as well as Gwaine did to spot how vulnerable they both really were.

Gwaine could look after them. Even when they made it as hard as they were making it now. It was no problem for him. He just needed five minutes to recharge his batteries and then he’d go on home to them.

But he somehow didn’t make it back for another hour and by then it was time to go out for dinner.

At least Kathleen and Freya could take over the chat. Freya was demanding Arthur tell her about all the famous bands he’d ever worked with while Kathleen was sharing her numerous biscuit recipes with Merlin.

Gwaine was quiet, for once. The strange feeling was persisting, back in his auntie’s house once more, a place he’d half lived in as a child. Except his mam had always been at the table with him too.

It had been eight years since she died. She never saw Gwaine graduate. She never met Merlin or Arthur. She never attended his wedding.

He hadn’t come back home enough since then. He should have visited Kathleen more. Should have kept up with Freya, his baby cousin who’d doted on him since day one. But for a long time he couldn’t face the thought of setting foot in Ballygarrin, of seeing the places where his mam had been and would never be again.

Perhaps Kathleen could read his thoughts because she presented him with a photo as they were leaving. It was him as a beaming thirteen year old, holding the month old Freya in his arms. His mam was sat on the couch behind him, stroking his hair. He was looking at the camera but she was looking at him, her smile wide and bright.

Gwaine felt tears pricking the back of his eyes but Kathleen didn’t say anything, just patted his shoulder before turning to the others.

“Come round tomorrow if you want. We’ll be taking a walk to the sea in the afternoon; Freya’s got some photos to take for her Geography project.”

Arthur and Merlin assured her that they would. Gwaine just nodded, the photo clasped in his hand.

He was silent all the way back to the cottage and when he got inside he went straight for the whiskey he’d bought earlier, and poured himself a generous measure. Then he knocked it back in one.

“Easy,” Arthur said behind him but Gwaine just poured out another.

“Gwaine, don’t you think-” Merlin began but he’d already drunk that one down too.

The photo fluttered from his hand, down onto the countertop. His teenage self grinned up at him, not a care in the world.

“Freya’s da John works the oil rigs,” he said, voice unnecessarily loud in the quiet cottage. “He was never around much when she was little and of course my da fucked off before I was walking. When she got old enough to care that she didn’t have a daddy to kiss her goodnight like the other kids at school, I told her it didn’t matter. Said our dads could do what they liked with who they liked because we had the best mams in the world. And they’d always be there for us and we’d never need anyone else but them.”

“Gwaine-”

“But my mam died. And it’s shite, lads. We should call a thing shite when it is. It’s shite your dad didn’t come to your wedding, Arthur. It’s shite your mam had to work so hard you hardly saw her growing up, Merlin. And it’s shite that my mam died of cancer aged forty five while my bastard da’s still out there alive and well. It’s shite. That’s all there is to say. It’s shite.”

Gwaine was aware that he was crying and he wasn’t the only one. He pushed back Merlin’s outstretched hand, gently.

“You know what’s not shite? This. Us three. Best thing that ever happened to me. I thought I’d never be happy again when Mam died. But you two make me… you make me…”

He swiped at his eyes.

“So fucking sort it out. Talk to each other. Because life’s too short. Believe me. It’s too short.”

He reached out for the bottle again, then stopped. Turned to face his husbands.

“Oh God, Gwaine,” Merlin said, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

“We’ve been selfish,” Arthur began, voice choked. “It’s your honeymoon too and I-”

“Not to me,” Gwaine said. “Please, just-”

And then his husbands were looking each other in the eye at last. Merlin sniffled and Arthur reached out, almost compulsively.

“I… I’m sorry Merlin. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long.”

“What are you sorry for, you daft bugger?” Merlin said, half-laughing, half-crying. “I’m the one who picked a stupid fight over nothing.”

“No, it was me, and I don’t care about doing things the ‘proper’ way,” Arthur insisted, his face pink. “That’s my father talking. I just want to be with you two.”

“And _I_ just want you both to be happy, even if that means fancy schmancy holidays every weekend,” Merlin said, practically vibrating in apology.

They seemed to move forward as one and then they were clinging on to each other, Arthur’s face buried in Merlin’s neck.

“God, I missed this,” Merlin mumbled and Arthur squeezed him tighter.

Then Arthur reached out his arm and tugged Gwaine into the hug, and they just held each other, no words necessary.

 

***

 

An hour later, after a few snifters of whiskey each and a round of heartfelt confessions, the air seemed definitively cleared. Both Merlin and Arthur seemed to have been able to actually say what was on their mind (with a little prodding from Gwaine) and Gwaine opened up in return. About his mam and how it felt to come back here and all the ways he’d been missing her of late.

Merlin petted his hair as he talked and Arthur rubbed his leg, from within their disorganised cuddle pile on the sofa.

“We should have talked about this before,” Merlin said guiltily. “I think sometimes, because you take such good care of us…”

“We assume you’re more alright than you are,” Arthur finished.

“I am alright, mostly,” Gwaine said and they both nodded.

“We know. But everyone needs extra support sometimes. We wanna be there when you need us.”

And this Gwaine could concede.

Most of all he was happy to see his husbands kissing and cuddling again, touching each other and making jokes. It was surprisingly how quickly his sadness melted away in the fact of their unity.

It was something about home feeling like home again, because home was with them.

“Anyway, I’m sorry about all this fuss over a honeymoon, we should have just let Gwen pick where we went,” Arthur said.

“And I’m sorry I didn’t just agree to Tuscany, that actually sounded lovely,” Merlin said mournfully.

“Alright, alright, we’re all sorry,” Gwaine said before Merlin and Arthur’s never-ending fight became Merlin and Arthur’s never-ending make up. “Me too, I suppose, for dragging us here.”

Merlin and Arthur had been looking directly at each other and something seemed to pass between them. Merlin turned, eyes dragging over Gwaine’s body.

“Mm, do we forgive him Arthur?” he said innocently.

“Mm, I’m not sure we do,” Arthur said, a glint in his eye.

Then they both exchanged an extremely wicked look.

“Hey!” Gwaine protested. “I forgave you both.”

“Hush up and take your punishment,” Arthur said and before Gwaine could get away, he’d slung him over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

“To the bedroom!” Merlin cheered.

“Put me down! Help!”

Gwaine struggled, enjoying the feel of Arthur’s strong arms around him, recognising the start of one of his very favourite games. He liked sex pretty much any way with his husbands but it was always a treat to be manhandled and passed around between them, to be punished and praised in equal measure.

When they reached the bedroom, Arthur dumped Gwaine onto the bed and immediately climbed on top of him, bracketing him in place with his elbows.

“What shall we do with him, Merlin?”

Merlin bounced onto the bed and rested his chin on Arthur’s shoulder.

“Hmm. Let’s strip him first!”

“Oi!” Gwaine yelped as Arthur unbuttoned his shirt and Merlin tugged down his jeans, both working in perfect tandem to get him naked. When they were down to his boxers, Merlin nuzzled his cock through the fabric slightly.

“He’s getting all excited. Slutty boy.”

“So that’s another thing we should punish him for,” Arthur said, sucking a kiss onto Gwaine’s neck.

“Are you a slut, love?” Merlin purred, mouthed at Gwaine’s clothed cock.

“What if I am?” Gwaine said, squirming pleasurably.

“No shame,” Arthur said, mock stern. “We’ll have to teach him a lesson.”

“Mm,” Merlin said, then drew Gwaine’s boxers down. “I think he should get it in both ends.”

Gwaine shivered in delight, his cock already half-hard.

“Good idea,” Arthur murmured. “Maybe that’ll satisfy him. Would you like that, Gwaine? Us filling you up?”

“Yes please,” Gwaine said and Arthur took a firm grip on his cock, giving it a quick stroke.

“What do you want, Merlin?”

Merlin nudged Gwaine’s hips up a little, then tapped at his entrance.

“Here,” he said decisively and Arthur grinned.

“Then I’ll take his slutty mouth,” he said and pressed his thumb against Gwaine’s lips, till Gwaine opened up to suck it in.

Arthur replaced his thumb with his mouth, capturing Gwaine in a long and dirty kiss. By the time he drew back Merlin was shedding the last of his clothes.

“Overdressed,” he said, nudging at Arthur, then leaned in to take over the kiss as Arthur stripped. He started to pinch and squeeze at Gwaine’s nipple with one hand and Gwaine bucked up for more, enjoying the feel of Merlin’s clever fingers.

Then Arthur was gloriously naked too, lazily stroking his cock as he watched them.

“You’re being too nice,” he said, giving Gwaine’s thigh a little pinch.

“Oh but he’s so pretty like this,” Merlin said with an affected sigh. “All helpless and wanting.”

“S’true,” Arthur said contemplatively. They both stared down at him and Gwaine felt the heady thrill of their undivided attention, their eyes devouring every part of his body. “Maybe we should keep him like this.”

“What, naked?” Merlin said.

“Mmm, yeah, and lubed up.”

As Arthur spoke he plucked the lube from the sideboard (the one Gwaine had rather pointedly placed there on their first night) and handed it to Merlin.

“That way we can just take him whenever we want. First thing in the morning, middle of the night, we can just spread his legs and give him what he needs-”

Merlin pushed one slicked up finger inside Gwaine.

Gwaine whimpered and Arthur hushed him.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you love?”

“You know you can’t go long without it,” Merlin added, thrusting his finger a little deeper. “This way you can just lie back and concentrate on pleasing us.”

He crooked his finger and Gwaine arched his back. Merlin was the most adept at this of the three of them and it was a pleasure all of its own, even not as a prelude to anything. Gwaine loved the feeling of being opened up, being stretched out; of feeling something inside him that was at once strange and deeply welcome.

“Add another, he can take it,” Arthur said, crawling up to kiss Gwaine again, hand still on his own cock. “Right, baby? You’re so good for us.”

Gwaine panted his agreement into the kiss, his stomach fizzing with arousal as Merlin slipped another finger inside.

He leaned down to touch his cock but Arthur pulled his hand away.

“Later for that,” he said firmly. “I haven’t forgotten about your punishment.”

Gwaine whined and Merlin cocked his head.

“Hands and knees, do you reckon?”

He casually pushed another finger inside and Gwaine groaned, feeling too full and wanting more.

“Probably best,” Arthur agreed. “On three.”

Merlin thrust in a few more times then drew his fingers out.

“Three,” he said and they hauled Gwaine up off his back, placing him on all fours.

Merlin gave Gwaine a quick, bruising kiss, and then moved back behind him.

“You go ahead, I’m going to open him up some more.”

Arthur knelt up in front of Gwaine, smiling.

“Make me proud, love,” he said and then he was gently feeding his cock into Gwaine’s mouth.

Gwaine began sucking immediately, glad to have something to concentrate on save for the ache in his untouched cock. Arthur’s hand came to rest in his hair, very slightly tugging.

“That’s good,” he said softly.

Gwaine keened a little when Merlin pushed his fingers back inside. Merlin’s free hand was stroking his arse, moving down to caress his balls, light enough to drive Gwaine mad. He almost groaned in frustration when Arthur suddenly thrust forward in his mouth and Gwaine had to open up so as not to gag.

“I think he’s ready,” Arthur said and Merlin hummed with approval behind him.

Gwaine shivered as he felt the tip of Merlin’s cock nudging at his entrance. Merlin wasn’t huge but he certainly knew how to use what he had and Gwaine was desperate to get fucked again after over two weeks of sexual radio silence.

He relished the slow burn as Merlin pushed inside him. Arthur had stopped thrusting, letting Gwaine get used to the penetration. But once Merlin was fully seated he nudged his cock a little further into Gwaine’s mouth, stroking his hair.

“How does he feel?”

“Incredible,” Merlin moaned. “So tight…”

“That’s why we need to keep him like this for us,” Arthur said, kindly petting the side of Gwaine’s face. “He’ll be so happy. Tied up and spread out and well fucked every day…”

Gwaine whimpered again, carried away by the fantasy. Being used for pleasure, kept like a toy, a couple of willing holes to his husbands whims.

The fact that none of these fantasies would ever come close to being carried out in real life made it all the better. Gwaine closed his eyes, focussing on the feel of Arthur’s heavy cock on his tongue, of Merlin deep inside him.

When Merlin began to thrust, Gwaine had to relax his mouth even further. Arthur drew back to give him breathing room.

“Keep sucking,” he instructed and Gwaine complied, although the double stimulation was already clouding his head. His cock was rock hard and he had no way to reach it, though he knew the torture was part of the pleasure. When he finally got to come, it would be mind-blowing.

Merlin thrust harder and Gwaine jolted forward on Arthur’s cock. He gagged a little and Arthur soothed him.

“That’s it, you’re doing well.”

He was barely doing any more than letting them both fuck him now, like he was a puppet between their bodies. He could feel Merlin’s grip on his hips – firm but not painful – and Arthur’s hand fisted in his hair – possessive but not harsh. They were grounding him, both of them. He was safe, he was loved. Gwaine closed his eyes and gave himself over to pleasure.

Arthur came first, with a stifled cry. He started to pull out but Gwaine made a noise of protest, sucking hard until Arthur spilled into his mouth. He swallowed and looked up to see Arthur’s softest smile, the one he used whenever he told Gwaine how much he loved him.

He kissed Gwaine, long and lingering, and then tugged him forward.

“Lean on me, baby, that’s it.”

Gwaine’s shaky arms were about to give out from the weight of supporting himself, he gratefully let himself be held up against Arthur’s chest.

Merlin moved with the angle change, thrusting upwards, hands still anchored to Gwaine’s hips.

“M’gonna-” he choked out and came a few seconds later, gasping his release.

He panted on Gwaine’s back for a few seconds and then reached around his body, still inside of him.

“Come for us,” he said, pumping Gwaine’s cock, and Gwaine needed no further encouragement. He came with a muffled cry into Arthur’s chest, the orgasm rocketing through his body, curling his toes with pleasure.

He was dizzy for a few seconds and when he came back to himself it was to find that his bodily strength had entirely deserted him. He sank into Arthur, mumbling something incoherent.

“Are you okay, love?” Arthur said anxiously, dropping the dom persona as quickly as he’d put it on.

“Mm, yeah,” Gwaine got out, which was about all he could manage.

“Lie him down,” Merlin said, helping shift Gwaine onto the mattress. He propped a pillow under his head and stroked his cheek. “Stay there, we’ll get you cleaned up.”

They both climbed off the bed and Gwaine made a discontented noise, raising one limp hand towards them.

“I’ll go,” Arthur said with a smile, pushing Merlin back on the bed.

Merlin moved to sit by Gwaine’s head then began stroking his head, slow and steady.

They swapped when Arthur came back, Merlin moving to the bathroom to clean himself off and Arthur swiping a cool flannel across Gwaine’s body with great care.

Gwaine was a little more present by the time Merlin returned. He watched as Merlin leaned down to kiss Arthur, Arthur’s arms coming up to wrap around Merlin’s waist. This was how it should be.

He yawned widely and grinned.

“Well. You two should fight more often.”

“No way,” Merlin said, giving Arthur one last kiss before moving to lie down on Gwaine’s right side.

“Yeah, you’re right. Just give me the good loving without the fight before.”

“We can do that,” Arthur said, settling down on Gwaine’s left side.

“Thank you for bringing us here,” Merlin said sincerely, tucking his head into Gwaine’s shoulder.

“It’s been amazing,” Arthur said and pressed a little kiss to Gwaine’s cheek.

“Love you two,” Gwaine said sleepily. “So much. So lucky…”

“We’re the lucky ones to have you,” Arthur said and Merlin murmured his agreement.

Gwaine wanted to argue that but tiredness was overtaking him. And he needed to sleep because tomorrow they’d go to the sea with Kathleen and Freya. And Merlin would talk earnestly to Freya about sea life and Arthur would help her position her camera to get the best shots. And Gwaine would walk with Kathleen and ask her what she'd been doing lately, and when John was next home again and how she felt about that. Then they’d all go back to Kathleen’s for a hearty meal and he’d return to his childhood home with his husbands once again.

Gwaine couldn’t say for sure but he thought his mam would be proud of him, if she could see him now. She was always proud of anything that made him happy.

And these idiots made him happy. Gwaine linked his hand with Merlin’s and buried his face in Arthur’s neck. Then he drifted off to the quiet sound of his husbands talking.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
